


Sapphire and Topaz

by Ciaossu



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 12:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciaossu/pseuds/Ciaossu
Summary: I apologize in advance I don't actually go here I don't know what the heck I'm doing.He wears a sword that he is told is not his and carries a legacy that he wears like a cloak. They are one and the same in this and still, Seliph cannot fault him for that.





	Sapphire and Topaz

There is anguish and bite in the words Ares spits at him. Seliph cannot fault him for that.

There is suffering in his eyes, a fury raised from his own perceived misjudgement and betrayals. Seliph cannot fault him for that.

He wears a sword that he is told is not his and carries a legacy that he wears like a cloak. They are one and the same in this and still, Seliph cannot fault him for that.

He follows behind Seliph. He has to, he claims. For those he cares for that he has left. For the home he has lost, that he can never return to. That he can never want to once more. Seliph cannot fault him for that.

They fight. It’s childish. He knows that later but in the moment he is so incensed, and Ares spits on the tinder and strokes the flames inside of him. Seliph has never been doubted before, not in that way, and he lashes out. But Ares wears fresh wounds that Seliph himself can never bare, and he lashes out himself. He is worn, Seliph rationalizes. But never weak. Seliph cannot fault him for that.

They march on, and Ares remains. Present, there, always near. He doubts him, audibly, where others may not. He is brash and bold, and for all his anger wears his heart on his sleeve if one listens carefully. He does not accept Seliph blindly, and that is refreshing. He could never fault him for that.

Their fates were intertwined before either of them existed. The sins of the father should not be visited upon the son. And yet upon their first meeting, there had been hatred. Accusations. A story told with two different paths. But time moved on, as did their march, and a slow change began to spin their stories. One story crumbled, the other remained strong. Ares relents, after a time, that perhaps Seliph’s forefathers are not at fault. He is hesitant to admit it still. Seliph cannot fault him for that.

The seeds of change are slow in The Black Knight. He wears his title as a shield, but every good shield wears with usage. He opens, slowly, and The Black Knight is put away. He answers when approached. He jokes, deadpanned, on occasion. The Black Knight slowly becomes Ares and Ares slowly warms to company.

Seliph sees him smile the first time, genuine and happy, and one of his greatest longings becomes to see it again, see it often if he can. He wants to be the one to bring that expression out of Ares and surely, if there is any justice in the world, Seliph cannot be faulted for that.

War is not easy. But it does have an end, no matter the time it takes to reach it. And it ends favourably, with them alive and victorious, and Seliph is happy, and Ares is happy, and smiling, and despite their exhaustion the man that has helped him, that has occupied so much of his thoughts is by his side.

In the excitement and distraction of the high of victory, where he cares little if anyone sees him, Seliph grabs Ares and he kisses him. He doesn’t care if he is faulted for that.

Life moves on. Life rebuilds. People do it by their own hands. He approaches Ares and Ares accepts him. They have their own things to tend to, people to help and countries to heal. But fate ties them still. There is no being apart, truly. Promises of plans to meet are made. Ares is stubborn. The meetings will happen.

Seliph does not mention the kiss. There are more important things. Now is not the time. He cannot be faulted for that. He wished someone would.

Things go well. It is hard, and threats linger, but prosperity returns, creeping slowly. To be the victor is stressful, heavy with responsibility. Seliph embraces it. He has promised the people he will do his best by them. He refuses to fail.

It takes time. More than they promised. But Ares returns to him. He is much the same. Still blunt, still with the same biting words and wounds on the soul not fully scarred over. But he greets Seliph with a smile, and the lightness in Seliph’s heart soothes all possible worries.

Time seems to speed up from the moment they are reunited. It is a cruel twist of fate. The day passes in a blur, dinner barely a passing moment. Ares has been raised with the taste of alcohol close. Seliph has not. His tolerance is lacking, and the warmth it spreads in his body lulls him to an early want of sleep. He feels he should not be faulted for that.

He escorts Ares to his room personally. It is not far from his own, and the halls are empty and quiet with only their footsteps. Still, they speak in hushed voices, the comfort of someone who’s very soul soothes you. Outside the door they pause. The day seemed robbed of too many hours, but the time is late all the same.

Seliph smiles. He bids Ares a good night. But there is hesitance in Ares’s expression, a frown upon his face as he stares at the floor. It is not the ease the was strung between them before. Seliph waits, expecting, for every part of him feels wrong leaving Ares when Ares is not happy.

As in many things, Ares moves suddenly, unpredictably. His hands come up, and Seliph’s face is caught between them, and in a reflection of that day long since past but always in his heart, Ares pulls Seliph towards him. Ares kisses Seliph, and faulting Ares in any way for it is the farthest thing from Seliph’s mind.

It is short, but feels like eternity. Ares pulls away and stares at Seliph, quiet, considering. With a huff, he releases him and steps back. Seliph wants to follow. Ares apologizes, eyes not meeting his. He claims it necessary, an urge he could not ignore any longer. A thought long thought but never acted upon. For Seliph is Seliph and to Ares he is radiant, glowing, a light in the time of his greatest darkness. Seliph is Seliph and Ares...He falls silent a moment, but when his gaze returns to Seliph, there is no questioning that Ares was a man born to be a king. He tells Seliph he loves him.

In a happier world, there would be no hesitance. Ares would tell Seliph that he loves him, and there would be no worry. No thoughts of the obligations they both carry, of the blood they must pass on, or the reaction to their love which cannot do such a deed. In a happier world, it would have been easier.

This is not a happier world. But it is the world in which Ares does love Seliph. And if these are the crosses that he bears, he will bear them with all the grace that he does anything else.

Ares loves Seliph. Seliph loves Ares. He approaches the other and kisses him once more. There is no fault to be found in anything about them.

**Author's Note:**

> YOU WON'T THREAD ARES HAVING NICE THINGS GUESS I'LL DO IT MY GOD DAMN SELF.


End file.
